


Vivisect

by Alastael



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bloodplay, Dark!Dean, Demon!Dean, Gore, M/M, Night Terrors, Violence, Vivisection, handjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-21
Updated: 2013-09-21
Packaged: 2017-12-27 04:44:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/974490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alastael/pseuds/Alastael
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Do yourself a favor and never google image search "vivisection."</p>
    </blockquote>





	Vivisect

**Author's Note:**

> Do yourself a favor and never google image search "vivisection."

Your breath is ragged, labored and hot heavy humid on his neck. You pull yourself in, fingers tight on the skin of his back and you can feel the tremor of muscle as he works inside you.

You barely feel it, now, the slick slide of his hands inside, mapping the lines of your ribs and pressing.

The first cut had been torture, serrated edge splitting sternum to hip. You watched the even parting of the skin and you cried. He kissed your tears and murmured nonsensical affectations into your skin as his fingers found the line, fingertips a voyeuristic caress.

You don't know what he's looking for, one hand working your ribs apart - it hurts, so you cry out, maybe scream, and feel his silencing mouth over yours - while the other runs, slow and languid, over your genitals, squeezing the viscera lubricant squelching. You still cry out. 

He licks at your tears, bruising bite kisses staining your skin, and when he finally breaks your ribs, oh. He moans, and it's a mantra, a meditation of _fuck, angel, I'm so close_ while you never stop screaming, hysterical and exhausting.

Drag your hands down slick flesh and leave your own mark, fuck his hand as he finds it, finally, fingers brushing the tender muscle of your heart and _you feel that, angel, yeah,_ and when he squeezes, you scream, you come, but you scream. 

You wake with his hand ghosting over your chest, tracing the letters of an alphabet unknown and you seize, panic, but he kisses your nape and hums low in your ear that _its okay, shh._ Trust is important, you know, in this fragile thing, so you turn, face him, and struggle to breathe when he leans forward and kisses your tears away.


End file.
